


mine, mine, mine.

by lionlannister



Category: Narcos (TV), Narcos: Mexico (TV)
Genre: Barebaking, Choking, Marking, Multi, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube, Under-negotiated Kink, Violence, implied threesome, violence as foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 17:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17027250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionlannister/pseuds/lionlannister
Summary: If he has a heart left he supposes it is in this room.





	mine, mine, mine.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the fictional versions of the people in Narcos not the real life versions.  
> Any and all dialogue should be assumed to be in Spanish.  
> Dont @ me

The boy, Miguel will not bother to remember his name, throws another punch that Miguel blocks so easily that it’s clear he’s afraid of actually landing a punch. That infuriates him, makes him hit so hard the boy falls to the ground of the boxing ring set up in the basement of the hotel he’s taken over. He set it up when it became clear that having so many young men with too much arrogance and violence inside them was going to cause an explosion. At least here they could work it out without murdering each other. Most of the time at least.

It also helped allow Miguel to work off some frustration on nights where Amado was gone or when he wanted even more violence than he would typically release on Amado. The downside is this; most of them are afraid to really hurt him. The know that Miguel could kill them, know that he might be trying to provoke them so he can. Being the person tossed into the ring with Miguel was a punishment now, something the boys low on the totem pole or the ones being punished by the others had to do. That way if they actually hurt him the others could beat them for it. 

“Come on, at least try and make it look real.” He knows that laughing voice, and knows that if he turns his head the boy in the ring will simply go still and wait for him to look back. Amado is grinning, it’s too wide and happy. He had just gotten back from killing someone for him so Miguel offers him a nod.

The boy pales and steps back, like he’s afraid, he probably is, and that disgusts Miguel even more so he cants his head to the side a silent signal for him to get out. The others around the ring looks equal parts nervous and excited for the fight they think will happen next, because it would mean punishing Amado. They won’t get what they want. They will never get what they want when it comes to this thing that floats nameless between their boss and his right hand man. 

Amado’s smile turns sharp as he watches Miguel pull off the gloves he had covering his hands. He knows what’s coming next, or at least he hopes for it. “If you want a real fight, you know who to ask.” There are few people, fewer every day, that can speak to Miguel like that. Amado may be the last of them. And Isabella, who is watching from the side of the ring. 

“Out. Everyone.” There are laughs, people toss Amado looks like they think they’re going to be burying his body in an hour. They all filter out, all except Amado and Isabella who waits to see if his command applies to her today. It doesn’t, he motions for her to stay once no one is looking at her. Amado climbs the ropes once the door has closed and Isabella has locked it. There are no camera here. No one gets to see them if Miguel does not want them too. And this? This he keeps close to his chest. 

If he has a heart left he supposes it is in this room. (He does not think of his children. In Sinaloa. Far from him. Safe from him.) Amado is standing in front of him now, tall and smiling once more. He waits for Miguel to break the silence, good boy. “You want to hit me, perrito?” He watches the way a blush creeps up his long face and feels joy at the sight of it. A perverse kind of joy maybe, but it’s all he has left. Reaching up Miguel put his hand on Amado’s chee, relashing in the way he inhales at the touch. “Then hit me, but if you take it easy on me I will be very displeased with you.” Amado stiffens. Miguel smiles. Isabella laughs. “No gloves, I want to see what you cando with your bare hands, more than I already do.”

Amado punches his stomach so hard he doubles over. Miguel is certain that he’s never cared for him more. It’s the first real hit anyone has landed on him in a while. “Like that?” There’s still laughter in Amado’s voice, but now it’s tinged with a bit of worry. Miguel nods when he rights himself.

“Perfect.” He wants to bleed, to hurt, to feel the violence that Amado will use for him. Wants to see the extent of it and know all the while that he’s the one truly in control of how far he goes. Miguel is smiling, there will be a bruise on his stomach. “Again, I want to see what you can do.” There’s venom, pride, and lust in his voice in equal measure. Those hands have killed for him. Those hands have been on his skin. Those hands are his to control though they are on another body. 

Another body, another man, but still his. That’s why when the next hit lands on his jaw he lets the hit land happily. This is what the people he decides to kill feel. He wonders if they get hard too. “Amado, come here.” He looks to Miguel before he moves, once he does amado moves to the side of the ring where Isabella is watching the proceedings. She reaches up, brushing hair from his forehead and speaking to him in a whisper that Miguel cannot hear. He pretends that doesn’t anger him, only Isabella can get under his skin like this. 

She kisses his cheek before nodding for him to go back to the fight, when Amado turns Miguel sees the smile and the blush on his cheek and knows he must find out what Isabella said to him. Later. He’ll ask, demand, later. 

It takes two more hits for Amado to draw blood. In that time Miguel lands a solid punch to the taller man temple that he knows will show later. Good, let some of the others think he had punished Amado instead of rewarded him. For that is what this was. A reward, a test maybe, but a reward in truth. At least the first part of one. The blood comes from his lip and Miguel reaches up to touch it, to taste and feel the spot where Amado’s strength has been shown. There’s a moment of silence, Miguel in wonder, Isabella calculating, and Amado looking torn between lust and fear. Miguel likes both those looks on his face. “Good job, perrito.” When he smiles the cut in his lip grows and there’s blood on his teeth. “Very good.” 

“Miguel Ángel…” Amado takes a step towards him reaching for his face as though he wants to wipe the blood from his lip, Miguel will be most disappointed if that is what he does. He had meant it when he said he did not want his pilot to take it easy on him. Luckily for him, for all of them, that is not what he does. Instead of landing softly on his cheek the hand grips the back of his neck tightly and pulls him forward. If Amado had kissed him Miguel would not have complained but what he does is een better. The grip on his neck pulls him close enough that Amado’s ankle can swipe his leg out from under him, slamming him down to the ground of the ring. 

When he lands on the floor Amado lands on top of him, one leg across his waist to keep him down and his hands pinning Miguel’s wrists down. They’ve been in the reverse of this before. Miguel’s hands wrapped tightly around Amado’s wrists, holding him where he wanted him, fucking him or riding him or doing whatever he wanted to do. Miguel’s mouth drops open and when the leg on his waist shoves him down harder he groans. “Yes, yes.” There’s sweat and blood on both of them, bruises that will take days to heal, and Miguel has never wanted Amado more. 

Miguel lets his hands unclench, falling open where they rest on the mat. With one bruised knuckle he taps on the floor. Three times. The signal that a fight is over. Amado stares at him for a long moment before letting go and helping Miguel to his feet. He’s barely standing before his hand tangles in Amado’s thick hair, pulling him forward to kiss him. The blood on his lip smears onto Amado’s lips. His teeth dig in, hard, so that their lips are both bleeding. His hands dig into the other man’s hips, pulling him flush against Miguel’s body. “Take off your clothes, perrito, and grab the rope. Next to Isabella.” 

He does as he’s told, a very good boy, and Miguel watches him as he strips and puts his hands on the rope. Isabella reaches out for him, puts a hand on one of his wrists and rubs his arm as Miguel watches. Isabella looks up over Amado’s shoulder to look at Miguel, to watch him as he stalks towards Amado until he can reach out and run a hand along the line of his spin. This man, this man who can fly and fight and could take on the world if he wanted. But now he does what Miguel tells him to. And Miguel has never had to threaten him. 

Even after getting his uncle arrested. Amado was still here. He deserved a reward for that. Miguel let his hand move up Amado’s spin softly, just barely touching him, he loved the way the larger man shivered at the touch and leaned back into him. Isabella’s hands on his arms kept him from letting go of the rope. “Good boy, my perrito, always do just what I ask, don’t you?” Isabella’s hands smooth up and down his arms. Miguel presses a kiss, oh so gently, to Amado’s shoulder. “Answer me.” There is no anger in his voice, just a sten tone he uses sometimes, one he knows Amado craves.

“I made you bleed.” He sounds torn and Miguel smiles so that he feels the way his lip cracks open where Amado hit him. His hands rest on Amado’s hips, holding him still exactly where he wants him as Isabella does the same with his arms. “Fuck, it was hot. You with blood on your lips that I put there.” Good, perfect. Miguel’s smile grows and he looks over Amado’s shoulder to meet Isabella’s eyes, sees the same hunger in them. 

There was blood on Amado’s hands too from where his knuckles had burst open, Miguel’s blood stained on them as well. “You did very well, Amado.” When he kissed the skin of his shoulder he left a stain of his blood there. Made him feel like one of those creatures from stories, the vampires that came in from the dark to feed off the blood of the innocent. None of them here were innocent though. And they were feeding off each other. “I’m going to fuck you, would you like that? Isabella will stay right where she is and I’ll be here fucking you into the ropes. It’s a reward.”

Amado’s nod could be seen from the sky if they were outside. “Yes, Miguel, yes.” He can see where Isabella’s nails are leaving marks on his wrists and Miguel wants to make his own so the next time he kisses him shoulder he bites down, relishing in the way that Amado backs up into him and lets out a loud moan, head tossed back revealing more of his long neck to Miguel. 

Miguel brought his hand up, pressed two fingers against Isabella’s lips and both men watched with rapt attention as she sucked them between her red lips and ran her tongue along them. Both of them had felt those lips around their cocks but they still watched her with fascination, no matter how much power Miguel had those lips were his undoing. It took a moment of silence except for the sound of their hearts and breathing for Miguel to regain his control and pull his fingers from her lips. “Later.” His voice was a gruff promise to Isabella. 

When he presses his fingers into Amado he feels the way he tenses, the way the muscles of his back and shoulders flexed at the intrusion. “Relax, perrito, you know I’ll take care of you like always. You deserve it, you did just what I asked when you hit me.” Amado, as always, does exactly as he is told and tries to force himself to relax, pressing against Miguel’s hand. “Isabella, kiss him. Help him.” 

She does, takes one hand off his wrist and cups his jaw, pulling Amado into a kiss that is nearly enough to make Miguel groan. Pull them apart and kiss both of them in turn. Remind them why they were even allowed to touch each other, it was at his direction. But he lets it continue for now, at least as he works Amado open. As much as he can with his fingers and Isabella’s spit. He wants to hurt him some, wants to make sure Amado feels him long after he’s pulled out of him. Payment for the blood. Reward for the blood. Maybe both. 

“Enough.” He punctuates his command by tugging st Amado’s hair with enough force to separate them. “I want you to focus on me.” 

Amado is his. Isabella is his. That’s all there was to it. “Yes, patron.” That was Isabella, he could hear the smirk on her face even though he wasn’t looking at her, was refusing to look at her as he wrapped a hand around his cock, making it slick with his own spit. “Whatever you say.” She is mocking him, he hates her, he loves her, he doesn’t know anything when it comes to her. It doesn’t matter. She does as she’s told. Stays with Amado as Miguel presses his cock inside him and they listen to his groans together. 

He fucks him hard, all but slamming Amado into the ropes of the ring, into Isabella, with his slow and deliberate thrusts. Miguel sees no need to rush, he can makes Amado come like this, come from the control Miguel has over him. So he plans to. He holds his hips tightly, sure to leave marks in the shape of his fingers, and pulls out before slamming back into him slowly. Not rushing, not picking up speed even as Amado keens and whines and begs. Maybe if he really begged Miguel would take pity, but also he might do the opposite. Besides this is part of what Amado wants from him, to be taken. He loves this, Miguel knows, loves it when Miguel pushes him and pulls him and tells him what to do. Only Miguel gets to have him like this, he would kill anyone else that tried to use his perrito like he does. 

Amado is moaning, chanting his name, and he can see Isabella’s eyes dilating and her lips opening, a sure sign that she wants to touch herself. But she can’t. Not until he tells her too and he feels like punishing her for her sarcasm. So he shakes his head, doesn’t grace her with an order, but knows that his meaning has come across because of the flare of anger in her eyes and the way she tightens her hands on Amado. She’s cut into the skin of his arms. Amado moans loudly again, the pain from both of them enough to drive the ability to speak from him. 

He’d known for a long time that Amado liked to be hurt some when they were fucking, had suspected it went further than he had yet had reasons to discover. But that might change today. One of his hands wrapped around the man’s throat, squeezing. He gasps, arching back against Miguel trying to press against the cock inside him despite how slowly Miguel is continuing to thrust. His eyes go wide, he can see that from his angle and from the wonder on Isabella’s face. He doubts she would let him get as far with her. But maybe she would. Maybe she wants to feel his fingers wrapped around her perfect neck as he fucks her just like Amado does. And Amado clearly does if the way he’s whimpering and fucking himself back against Miguel is any indication. Miguel presses a kiss, terribly gentle, against his neck. “Calm down, Amado, calm. You may come whenever you want. This is a reward after all.” 

And he does, spills himself without Miguel or Isabella touching his cock. Miguel smirks before biting the muscle at his shoulder hard enough to pull another cry from his lips. Miguel fucks him through his orgasm until he has his own. By the time he does Amado is barely managing to grip the ropes, letting out weak moans the entire time. “Isabella, help him stand.” When he pulls out he lets a soft noise slip from his lips. Sees the way Amado’s eyes light up at it. That is another part of his reward, getting to hear just how much Miguel does want him. 

Isabella slides between two of the ropes, her dress nearly sliding off her breasts as she does and both the men are watching them to see if they will fall fully out. They don’t. But she does not bother to right her dress when she stands, wrapping Amado’s arm around her shoulder. She likes being looked at by Miguel and so he looks all he wants. Miguel fetches Amado’s pants from where he had tossed them aside, going down onto his knees in front of his pilot he motions for him to lift one leg than the other. Pulling them up his long legs slowly, letting his lips linger on the skin of his thighs for a moment as he pulls up Amado’s pants for him. He is capable of gentleness when he wants to, he just finds it rarely suits his desires. 

Once his pants are on he grabs Amado’s shirt and pulls it on, with Isabella’s help, and buttons it slowly, aware of the was Amado is watching him. “You’ll sleep here tonight. In my bed. Take him up there, Isabella, I’ll be a moment.” He watches them walk out, using the back exit that leads to a private elevator. Few people are allowed to use it. Miguel, the two of them, and one or two of his other men. 

He spared only enough time to unlock the door to the gym and calling for a maid to come clean up before he headed up in the next elevator. To his room. To them. Whatever they are to him. 

Amado is on his stomach on the bed, already half asleep with his head in Isabella’s lap when he arrives. She looks up at him as he enters and locks the door behind him. “I don’t recall saying you were invited.” There’s no heat in his voice because he is not surprised to see her making herself at home in his bed. He kicks off his own shoes and shucks his shirt into the laundry basket. He had been in gym clothing so he had little care about keeping them neat for now. 

Isabella is watching him hungrily as he moves into the bed, getting in on Amado’s other side. “You didn’t, I invited myself, besides you didn’t let me get off earlier.” Ah, ever practical his Isabella. He chuckled slightly, rousing Amado from his slumber just enough that he slipped his head off her lap and buried it into the pillows. As though he is trying to avoid whatever fight they are about to have.

They aren’t going to fight. Not right now. “Spread your legs.” She does, her dress sliding up her thighs and he can see that she has already taken off her underwear, if she was wearing any to begin with. He has to get on his knees to step over Amado’s body to get to her but he does so easily enough. Amado surfaces from the pillows enough to watch them though Miguel doubts he will be capable of helping much. Miguel settles between her legs, pushing her dress up even further until there is no scrap of fabric seperating him from her. 

“Are you able to get hard again?” She’s mocking again and he nearly turns away from her but this time her words are a challenge and he’s not going to let her win. So he doesn’t say anything, besides he hadn’t been planning on fucking her, His head is between her thighs in a flash and her head falls back against the pillows behind her, neck and back arching as his tongue goes to her clit. Practiced at the way she likes to be touched, all the ways to make her come as quickly as possible when he’s not feeling like dragging it out anymore. One of his hands hold her legs open to him and with the other he presses two fingers inside her, hearing her moans and feeling the way her hands scramble for purchase on him. 

Taking pity on her, despite her smart mouth she has behaved tonight, he reaches out with the hand that had been on her thigh and pulls one of her hands into his hair. Giving her permission to tug on it as she tries to fuck herself down onto his mouth. Tonight he lets her. Tomorrow he’ll make her wait, or maybe he’ll have her suck him off without letting her touch herself. He hasn’t decided yet. But he’s in a good mood tonight. The violence of the fight, of fucking Amado, has left him with adrenaline and he decides to use it on her. 

When she comes she does so loudly, crying out and pulling at his hair hard enough to make him hiss. There’s certainly a guard outside his room but they won’t come in at these sounds, the know better. Besides everyone knows that Isabella belongs to him. They know Amado does to, though they may not know exactly how much. Isabella is off limits, anyone that touches her risks their life, so it will be no surprise to hear them fucking in his rooms. He licks her through her orgasm, stopping only when she shoves his head away because she has become sensitive. 

Both of them are laid out on his bed. Both of them have come by his hands tonight. “I’m going to shower. Both of you are staying here tonight.” He pushes off the bed and looks back only quick enough to see the way Amado’s arm goes to her waist tugging her against his chest. He’ll get between them when he comes back but for now they can stay as they are.


End file.
